


distance between midnight and daybreak

by myefflorescence



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Character Development, Character Study, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Falling In Love, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Misunderstandings, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26216923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myefflorescence/pseuds/myefflorescence
Summary: "the distance between us is like midnight and daybreak - they're only a few hours apart, and yet can never be together,"- 10 prompts for aomine's birthday, complete. // 31.08.20
Relationships: Aomine Daiki & Momoi Satsuki, Aomine Daiki/Momoi Satsuki
Comments: 16
Kudos: 39





	1. 1-3

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jacksvnw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksvnw/gifts).



> not in chronological order

**1\. Universe  
**

_If you think about it, everything we do on a daily basis, no matter how small or insignificant it may be — is a habit._

Brushing your teeth in the morning is a habit. Tying your shoelaces is a habit. Walking to school with your best friend and listening to her ramble about absolute nonsense is a habit. Skipping practice and then getting your ass hauled to it by that same best friend is a habit. Walking home and dropping by the konbini to grab a popsicle with her is also a habit.

They are learned behaviors – ones that Daiki has become trained to do without thinking, and not unlike the basketball where every movement has been instilled so deep into his bones that scoring a goal with his eyes closed is pretty much second nature, spending most of his waking hours around his annoyingly talkative, annoyingly observant, pink-haired midget of a best friend is also very much a habit.

At first, everyone assumed they wouldn’t get along because of how different they were from each other.

The Daiki now would have understood where they were coming from even if he honestly couldn’t care less about it. The Daiki _then_ , however, didn’t understand and didn’t bother to try: after all, what did Satsuki being a girl have to do with anything? She was interested in basketball (which was already a major winning point) and never protested when he would drag her along on any mischievous adventures that his rebellious mind came up with — although she always did complain about getting her clothes dirty afterward, but that was on her for dressing up so fancily in her laces and ribbons.

Growing up, other kids in the neighborhood often made fun of him for being friends with her. In their views, hanging around Satsuki made him less of a boy because girls would only play house and dolls and other _girly_ games, – which, while admittedly weren’t as fun as basketball, weren’t _that_ intolerable either – but Daiki had never seen her being anywhere close near a possible threat to his budding masculinity. If anything, shouldn’t befriending such a pretty girl make him even more manly? Not that it had mattered: he'd still much rather spend an afternoon wooing her over with the new tricks he had picked up from adults in a match earlier that day than playing with those boys who would put Satsuki down for liking the sport — and ironically, that wasn't a very manly thing of them to do.

Although, to be completely honest, it _was_ a little frustrating sometimes – especially when she ended up hitting her growth spurt way before he did, was a good head taller than him for a while, and kept rubbing it in his face whenever they would hang out. Satsuki had always been such an asshole, but no one would ever take his word for it (even though he was, too, when he scared her off with a frog and thus gave her an eternal fear of slimy amphibians).

Still.

The fact remained that Satsuki didn’t mind spending most of her time around him either, even if he did frustrate her to tears by constantly getting them both in trouble and pulling at the long tresses of her hair just because they reminded him of cotton candy.

She stayed, because Daiki would always make up for his faults in one way or another; and if there was anything that he naturally excelled at even before basketball — it was having _fun_.

The days that they spent together were calm and peaceful, carefree and spontaneous. There wasn’t a single minute where they found themselves not enjoying the moment as much as the other party did, and Satsuki let her best friend took the credit for most of it, mainly because it was always Daiki who knew where all the best spots to hide from the rest of the world were at, the places with the most beautiful views overlooking their town, or mysterious lands filled with wonderful new discoveries.

She had loved those days. 

Being with Daiki, in Satsuki's book, meant being able to experience life at its fullest without a care in the world; and even during the times when they simply felt like lazing around, he always managed to find a way to make her laugh so hard just to hear her snorting in the most unladylike manner ever.

And the best thing was that he never even had to try — her best friend just effortlessly had that kind of influence on people: he was so passionate and lively, so full of energy that you couldn’t help but be drawn towards the electric force that was so uniquely _him._ And once you did, it was like standing in an endless green field with the sun high above your head and the sky blue, the summer breeze ruffling your hair while the grass tickled your bare feet — that, to Satsuki, was what being with Dai-chan had felt like.

By the time they both had reached their last year of high school, it was clearly established to everyone that they were just very, very close friends. Soulmates, maybe, but there were little names one could label their relationship with.

After all, what word could possibly be fitting enough to describe the depth of their bond and its significance, or how far of a journey they had traveled together?

What word could you use to call the person with whom you’d spent a lifetime’s worth of memories, whose face and voice and everything else was imprinted onto every chapter of your life?

That fact alone, though, certainly wasn't enough to stop everyone from continuing to question their friendship. As far as they were concerned, Daiki and Satsuki might've just won the award of “most unlikely duo” of the century, and that somehow managed to stay the hottest topic of Touou Gakuen's student cohort for the three consecutive years in which they attended there.

Nobody could explain why Satsuki willingly followed her best friend all the way to Touou despite her constantly being fed up with his antics, and nobody could explain why Daiki never pushed her away despite him always complaining about how annoying she was. By some sort of divine power, they stayed together like two halves of a package deal: wherever he went, she followed and vice versa — to the point it was almost bizarre for everyone to see one of them without the respective half. 

* * *

_You have received a new message!_

_From: Dai-chan_

_look outside ur window_

“Aomine Daiki!” Satsuki hissed out each syllable of his name, sliding the clear panel of her window to meet a very satisfied, grinning ear-to-ear face of her best friend. "Are you insane?! Do you even know what time it is?!"

The usage of his full name didn't budge him one bit. “Relaaaax, Satsuki, you’re gonna wake the entire neighborhood up."

God how Satsuki wished she could just _wipe_ the smugness off of his face.

“…Let's go catch some fireflies.”

If looks could kill, Daiki was sure he would have died a hundred times over within’ the last minute because of how intensely Satsuki was glaring at him, so incredulously that he almost felt bad for ruining her beauty slumber – a wonderful one from the sight of it, seeing how grumpy she was.

Almost.

The heat that was radiating off of her felt like a volcano moments before it erupted and killed everyone within' the appropriate distance. The mental image was a scary one, and would have made Daiki flinch if it weren't for the fact that this volcano was standing at solely five feet two, wearing shorts with teddy prints on them and craning her neck to look up at him. “Fireflies? What are you, twelve?”

“Plus six,” he retorted, half leaning against the railings of her balcony and half bracing himself for a punch that never came. “C’mon, you’ve been so stressed because of the exams lately—”

“And you’re not stressed enough,” Satsuki cut him off midway with a huff, crossing her arms beneath her ample chest. Standing as they were, Daiki’s towering figure completely blocked the moon from her view.

If her comment had even registered within his mind, he didn’t show it. “It’ll be fun. Y’know, just like the good old days.”

…Damn him and his persuasion skill.

He knew Satsuki was exceptionally prone to any kinds of nostalgia-inducing activities – he knew that she was already getting _waves_ of it just from the way he climbed up her balcony to sneak her out for some midnight rendezvous, the way he’s grinning at her with that stupid, boyish grin of his because it would be so easy to convince her for the sake of reliving their childhood. That cheeky bastard.

“…Well?”

Unable to resist his tempting offer (not like she would've been able to), Satsuki heaved a sigh and then relented, face slowly breaking into a huge smile. “I can't even with you...Alright, fine, but you’re treating me to ice cream tomorrow!”

By the time she had finished her sentence, Daiki was already half way down, using the head casing of the window below as leverage (thank god she only lived on the second floor). He dropped onto the ground with a cat’s ease and dusted his hands off, then reached out to her as if expecting something in return. 

“What?” Satsuki quirked an eyebrow, closing her window, and looked at him. It took a couple gestures for her to understand his motive: as children, it would take her noticeably longer (and more efforts) to climb down than it would have him – she was just a small girl and no basketball prodigy, after all, but that had been years ago. 

“Jump.”

Satsuki shot her friend a look that screamed _“Are you insane?”_ , caught between half wanting to laugh at the absurdity of his notion and half wanting to rip her hair out for just _knowing_ that regardless of its ridiculousness, she would still go along with it in the end.

Daiki huffed and gestured to his right bicep while flexing it.

“Do you not see _these_ , Satsuki? Jump, I’ll catch ya,” he sounded like an impatient little child eager to open his present on a Christmas morning, and Satsuki’s not sure if that’s really helping his case. If anything, he looked even more ridiculous trying to show off to _her_ what she already knew better than anyone else – and no, being able to lift much didn’t make her crashing full weight from the second floor of a house onto him any less of a bad idea.

But she really couldn’t help it when he’s looking at her in such a way _,_ calm and self-assured as if telling her that yes, she could trust him to catch her this time and then many more, like he always did throughout the years that their friendship had stood trial to.

 _“I got you_ , _Satsuki_.”

There was just no way she could have possibly said no to that.

So rely on him she did – she jumped, square into his waiting arms, and even though he did hold his end of the promise by catching her, her weight still drove him back, knocking them to the ground with a loud _thud!_ that was sure to wake the lighter sleepers.

Satsuki pushed herself up and looked around. “Huh, well, that wasn’t so bad...Let me just get my sh—”

Daiki groaned.

“…shoes.”

Her voice died down.

Daiki had taken the brunt of the impact by shielding her from the ground with his own body, although he couldn’t have possibly looked less fazed other than the grunt he had just let out. What’d gotten Satsuki speechless, though, was not his lack of reaction, but the fact that she was suddenly aware of how tiny the proximity between them was; the way that he was holding onto her waist triggering her self-consciousness about how compromising the position they were in looked. This close, it allowed his scent to wash over her entirely – a mix of fabric softener and his natural, earthy odor, a hint of sweat and the smell of wind; she could even point out the lines on his face, and when her face heated up at this realization, Satsuki wanted to punch him for having the audacity to look so nonchalantly still while she was going to combust from embarrassment. Best friend or not, she was still a girl!

It was like that one time in Teikou all over again.

“Satsuki, get off. You’re heavy.”

Daiki wasn’t oblivious to his friend’s dilemma. Years spent beside Satsuki meant that he could read her facial expressions perfectly – and Satsuki, much to her claim otherwise, was someone who practically wore her emotions, so of course when she went from looking puzzled to horrified to downright embarrassed, he knew. And he would have felt bad for teasing her if only he hadn’t found the transition of her feelings so damned fascinating: her brows would lift just ever so slightly, mouth agape, lashes fluttered, then those wide eyes of hers would widen once realization hit. 

And it was satisfying for him to watch, because Daiki reveled in the fact that while Satsuki had had her fair share of time around members of the opposite sex to the point where she was immune to any kinds of advances they might make, he could still elicit these responses from her with little efforts (albeit involuntary), but Daiki would die before he’d ever admit it out loud to her.

Or before he would ever tell her that he found her cute when she’s playing mad and fumbling around like that, scrambling to look for her shoes before her parents could possibly wake up to investigate the loud noise.

He’d always known Satsuki was attractive, he’s not blind. It was a well-established fact that had been acknowledged by everyone, and even more so now that they’ve grown past the phase of lanky limbs and uneven body proportions. It was proven over and over again by the way her desk overflowed with letters of confessions on Valentine's day, or how easy it was for her to talk her way out of things, because people actually believed Daiki better when it was _Satsuki_ who did the talking. 

Not that he needed anyone to point that fact out for him. Satsuki always thought she was only beautiful when others told her so, but she was perfectly fine without all those testaments in Daiki's mind. 

There certainly wouldn’t be any problem if he were to tell Satsuki that she was cute. On the contrary, he was pretty damn sure she was aware of that herself, but because she was Satsuki and he was Daiki, he’d rather eat her disastrous cooking before allowing her the pride of being complimented by him, for once.

The wind was generous on them as they breezed past the houses of their neighborhood and onto the main road, softly illuminated by the street lamps. They were both still clad in their sleepwear still, shorts and tank tops, but that was the least of their concern when the night was just so perfect to be spent outside: shadows fell long behind them as the full moon set their path alight and gusts of wind weaved freely through their hair, rousing goosebumps on their skin, prompting Satsuki to hold onto her best friend tighter as he pedaled away.

There was a field on the outskirt that they knew all too well — a place of hideout on the days they didn’t feel like doing anything too extreme that Daiki would usually come up with; things like hiking up a mountain or catching crayfish by the stream. The field was vast and seemed to stretch out endlessly with rows of tall, Napier grass swaying in the wind. As children, Daiki and Satsuki loved playing hide and seek there: they would spend hours looking for each other until the sun started to set, then get lost amidst the tall grass and lay there admiring the sky above, marveling over how beautiful the colors were, about how romantic and beautiful life had seemed at that time. Back then, everything was much simpler.

“Satsuki, do you believe in fate?”

He asked as she was busy admiring a firefly that shone brightly even when caught in the palms of her hands. There was a spark of wonder in her eyes that was accentuated by the gentle, flickering light of the firefly – the same one that was softening her features and making her look one of the fairies he used to believe in as a child. His question, as expected, threw her off, and the little insect quickly flew away as she slapped a hand over his forehead.

“I don’t have a fever, idiot!” Daiki grumbled and swatted her hand away, feeling déjà vu as he recalled that this exact same scenario happened the last time he talked about it with her.

Satsuki stuck her tongue out at him. “Is this about Kagamin again? I already told you—”

“No,” he cut her off, looking away from her puzzled gaze, then down at the glass jar he was holding in his hands. The fireflies were fluttering about, creating a faint buzz. “This is about you and me."

A pause.

"...About _us_." 

Satsuki opened her mouth as if to say something, but decided against it. She looked up at the sky, to the side, and said nothing else until the silence between them was starting to get a little too awkward for comfort. Daiki, impatiently, glanced at her to gauze her reaction.

She was staring at him with a dumbfounded look in her eyes as if he just sprouted a second head. He sighed, already feeling a wave of headache coming up from having to elaborate. “Do you ever think about how the universe set us up to meet? It was too many coincidences, y’know, our parents being co-workers and then neighbors, us being born in the same year, attending the same school…”

“Hn.”

In reply to the depth of his thoughts, Satsuki merely hummed absentmindedly, tapping her polished nails against the lid of the glass jar. The fireflies seemed to be disturbed by the sudden motion and flew about wildly, causing a little commotion inside the jar while Daiki felt a tic appearing on his temple at her seemingly halfhearted reaction.

And then she unscrewed the lid, much to his protests.

The fireflies, now free to fly off, surrounded them.

In that brief moment, the place upon which they had been kneeling became illuminated by dozens of little stars that seemed to brighten up the sky in its entirety, their vibrancy outstanding like diamonds against velvet. Underneath the moonlight, the universe had seemed much more otherworldly, more ethereal than the ordinary look it wore during daytime – so much that if they both didn’t know better, they would have thought to have gotten lost in a classic Ghibli film, one that they used to watch all the time growing up together.

“I don’t think it’s ever a coincidence when it comes to us,” she turned to him, smiled a smile that put the fireflies' light to shame, and said—

_"What’s meant to be simply will be.”_

**2\. Boundaries**

One of the main reasons why their attempts to clarify that _no, they were in fact just friends and not dating_ continued to be futile was because of how close they were.

Literally.

If these two even had a sense of what personal space might be around each other, they certainly didn’t act that way to the rest of Touou Academy’s student body and anyone else who knew them. It was as common to find their ace using their manager as an arm rest or him randomly throwing her over the shoulder to carry off to God knew where as it was common to find her using her entire body weight to push him along the hallways. And the more physical contacts were made, the more their entire cohort wished that these two would’ve just gotten together already because _come on,_ there was no way they weren't dating, _right?_ Some boundaries had to be set! And by that, it meant that the amount of pushing, pulling, hauling was enough to make other people look the other way.

Touou's basketball team was holding an endurance training session on the school’s track field that day when it suddenly started raining, and rained _hard._ It was monsoon season so they had expected it beforehand, but the fall came so quickly that by the time they had gathered their equipments and ran back inside, they were all drenched from head to toe without a single exception.

“Mattaku… The weather forecast said it wouldn’t rain until later evening,” Satsuki huffed in annoyance, wringing her hair dry. “Has everyone got a change of clothes?”

The silence that dawned in the gym following her remark was so immediate that even a drop of water falling on the floor could be heard. Confused, Satsuki looked up questioningly at the team members, who in turn were staring at her as though they’d never seen a human before.

“Momoi-san, y-your…your shirt,” Sakurai was the first to break their trance, reluctantly pointing at her with a trembling finger as though he was scared that she’d bite it off, “—I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have looked!”

Satsuki followed the direction of his finger and looked down.

_Oh._

“A-Ah, don’t mind it, Sakurai-kun!” She laughed it off awkwardly, dismissing him with a wave even though she wished the earth would’ve opened up and swallowed her whole right there and then. Because it was particularly hot that day, Satsuki had opted to leave her hoodie home and just wore a dress shirt instead, and of course she had to get caught in the rain on the exact same day. Just to her luck! By all means, she was used to being stared at, but that never made it any less comfortable, especially when she wasn’t trying to gain unnecessary attention.

While Satsuki was racking her brain trying to come up with a solution, Daiki seemed to already have one of his own.

Being on the team meant that he had practices every school day – and that in turn equalled to the fact that he always brought an extra change of clothes just in case. He might’ve not seemed like it, but Daiki cared about his appearance more than he let on. He had to take good care of himself after all – and when something like this happened, of course he wouldn’t mind sacrificing one of his shirts to help Satsuki out. A dirty shirt could be washed easily, but a sick Satsuki meant days of being at school with no one to tease and no one to nag at him, and how _boring_ was that?

Besides, he hated seeing her sick: she would always act so uncharacteristically quiet and so vulnerable that it crept him out.

“Arms up,” he told her in a rather commanding tone that made the team members expect their manager to complain about – but the words never came. Instead, Satsuki happily complied and raised her arms up in the air so that he could slide his t-shirt over her. It was much bigger on her frame obviously, and she kinda looked ridiculous with the sleeves of her dress shirt sticking out beneath the shorter ones of his, but Satsuki seemed content with this.

“Thanks, Aomine-kun!” she told him sincerely, before turning back to the players on court. “Alright, let’s get back to practice everyone! Continu— _Achoo!”_

The boys inwardly flinched at her violent sneeze. Daiki didn’t, though, and let out a sigh that made him sound forty years older.

“You’re cold, idiot. At least dry yourself up properly before that,” he frowned.

As if it wasn’t an unusual scene enough for everyone to see their manager being lectured, what was even more bizarre was the fact that she was actually looking guilty at his words with her head slightly bent, cheeks puffed out in annoyance because she didn’t want to admit that he was right.

And to make the scene even more dramatic than it already was – their ace suddenly flopped onto the ground and patted the empty spot between his legs, indicating for her to sit there.

Their "audience" looked on, horrified as their manager did just as told and even took a step further than that, scooting closer to where her back would press firmly against his chest. Completely unfazed by this, Daiki spread his legs a little to make some more space as she folded hers, and if that wasn’t enough to make everyone else red in the face, what he did next completely sealed the deal: deft fingers quickly unbuttoned the clean, dry jersey he had just put on and pulled the front darts of it forward in a way that it would cover Satsuki entirely, and by doing so he just _conveniently_ had to wrap his arms around her in what must've been a nice, warm embrace.

The freshmen stared at them, jaws dropped and cheeks tinted with red – even Sakurai had stopped apologizing and was now burying his face into his hands as to not witness the embarrassingly intimate scenario.

“The hell are you all looking at?!” His sudden snarl snapped the poor students out of their trance and sent them scrambling around the gym. “Go practice or don’t blame me if we lose this year because you lot decide to slack off!”

“Yes, _Captain!”_

Satisfied with that chorus in response, he finally turned his focus back on the bundle of pink enveloped entirely in his hold. She’s sniffling from the cold and the way that her reddened nose twitched a little when she did so oddly reminded him of a bunny.

“Thank you, Aomine-kun,” Satsuki beamed up at him, pulling his arms even closer for the heat, and Daiki could only look away even though she wouldn’t have been able to see his face.

“...You’re welcome, Satsuki.”

**3\. Painkillers**

Being a lively, energetic young boy meant that Daiki was constantly out and about doing _something_ regardless of whether or not he’s allowed to, and most of the times those actions involved physical efforts that would require him to run, jump, climb and everything in between. And that, of course, came with certain risks of injuries as well.

He would get at least one or two scratches, a bruise and anything of the sort whenever they played outdoors, even while doing something as safe (comparing to his other mischiefs) as basketball. That’s why Satsuki always made sure to carry around a few band aids with her just in case — but the first time he actually did get hurt in front of her, she didn’t have any.

“Oi Satsuki, calm down, jeez,” Daiki snarled, a little cruder than he’d expected, partly because pain stung in his eyes and partly because Satsuki had started crying instead and he hated it when she did. _He_ was the one in pain, so why on earth was _she_ crying? 

Prior to this, they had been playing ball on the street court, the usual: Daiki practicing a new trick shot he’d learnt on TV and showing it off to Satsuki, who would always cheer him on from the sideline. He had just scored a goal and was proudly grinning at an awed Satsuki when the ball, to her horror, bounced back from where it fell and right into his face.

The result was not pretty.

“B-But Dai-chan… _,”_ she cried out in between hiccups, gesturing at the swollen patch on his forehead. He winced when she reached a finger out tentatively to touch it and that had made her cry even louder, all tears and snot stricken. Daiki scrunched his nose up at the sight. _Gross._

Now, Daiki might've not been the brightest kid academically, but he was always quick to act in his own way and was surprisingly resourceful in certain situations, especially ones concerning his childhood friend. The only way to stop her crying, he understood, was to reduce the severity of the injury (which wasn't even severe to begin with, but she tended to overreact) — and luckily enough for the both of them, he had just the right solution.

“Oh, I know,” he exclaimed, crouching down so that he was half her height and pointing at the bruise. “Ma always kisses it better, maybe it’ll work if you do it too! Try it.”

It worked like a miracle because Satsuki stopped crying almost immediately and looked at him, expectant. She stifled back the sobs and clumsily wiped at the tears staining her cheeks, then stepped closer to him.

“L-Like this?” She asked, leaning forward with clear reluctance and paused a little before pressing the lightest of kisses on his forehead, her tiny hands grabbing onto his shoulders for support. Daiki’s eyebrows furrowed in discomfort — the bruise was still tender and sensitive to any kind of touches, but he held his tongue and nodded instead, flashing her a thumbs up.

As they grew older, Satsuki claimed that certain boundaries needed to be set because no matter how close they were, Daiki was still a boy – that meant no more calling him Dai-chan in public, and along with it no more kissing his wounds better. It was ridiculous because he couldn't understand why she had to be bothered by what everyone else thought about them so badly – why did the way they lived had to be altered to fit some stupid social standards? Not to mention that for a good portion of middle school, Satsuki was constantly seeking validation from her peers as well, and that sometimes meant dressing up in clothes that didn’t fit her style at all or wearing cosmetics that overpowered her natural, flowery scent with their chemical ones. Ones that he disliked. 

Still, Daiki let her be because only Satsuki knew what was best for herself, and besides — she wasn’t the only one who had her hands full. He had finally met the people who was equally as good, equally as passionate about basketball as he was; people who pushed him to continue striving for greatness even though he was plenty good himself and people who was on the same wavelength with him (Satsuki was, too, but she couldn’t play and that’s so _different_ ). Those were the days when middle school had felt like the safest, most perfect place on Earth for him. 

Until it didn’t.

Some changes happened so fast that he never saw it coming, whereas others happened so slow that he didn’t even notice they were there, and by the time he did, it was already too late.

He started skipping practices, gradually at first, and then stopped altogether when they felt more like chores than something that was meant to be enjoyable. It was akin to a stab in the back or a betrayal of his most trusted belief, whichever hurt worse — because basketball had always been one of the constants in his life.

It supposed to bring him sparks of joy. It was supposed to be fun. It was the only thing he was good at and the only way he could express himself freely without restraints, the only way he knew how. It was the one thing that he had relied on to define himself from start to finish, and when it was forcefully taken away from him, Daiki felt as though there was nothing else worth spending his efforts on. After all, he did it for basketball, and look what he had gotten in return:

Being called a monster.

There was nothing more bitter than having people downright _scared_ to play with you, so _intimidated_ that they didn’t even bother to put up a proper fight on court. What was the point of him practicing then, huh? If he was already so good, the best of the best? Why on earth would he want to continue practice so that he could leave the others even further behind?!

None of them could ever understand the dilemma he was suffering through. The coach didn’t understand, Akashi didn’t understand, freaking _Tetsu_ didn’t understand. Daiki was aware of the weight of his words when he’d lashed out at his friend and how cruel of a thing it was to say, invalidating the one skill that had made Tetsu’s worth on court. And to make matters worse, Satsuki kept pestering him to go to practice. It’s like she didn’t even try.

Though she did, really, she did. Way beneath the tough front he put up, she saw the flickering flame of passion that hadn’t died down yet, the same ignition that sparked whenever a seemingly worthy opponent tested their limits against him.

When he told her “Go away, Satsuki,” it wasn’t annoyance that she heard, but _“Stay, Satsuki, stay and believe in me.”_

When he said “The only one who can beat me, is me,” it wasn’t arrogance that she heard, but a silent plea for someone, _anyone_ to throw him off of his throne – because falling was the only way for him to get back on his feet. So she stayed, and waited, and prayed every night for that person to come soon so she could have Dai-chan back.

And although he pretended like she annoyed him to death, Daiki let her stay and continued to come over to her place even while nothing they did together could make him happy these days. At the very least though, Satsuki’s unwavering presence in his life was keeping him sane – he’d already lost the other half and if he were to lose her too, Daiki was sure he would’ve gone completely ballistic.

He came to her, because if there was anyone who would never judge him, who would never invalidate his feelings in a certain way, that would've been Satsuki.

When everyone else became ignorant and Tetsu finally left, when practices became mundane and competitive matches turned scary to him, at least Satsuki was there as an anchor to life – a reminder that it went on regardless whether or not he wanted it to. And even if just a flicker, she made him believe there was still hope for him. 

That he wasn't a lost cause just yet.

She never kissed him better anymore, but occasionally she allowed him to fall asleep on her lap and cry into her shirt as she ran her hands through his hair soothingly, and that was enough, he thought. It was enough to kill the pain for the time being, and while he never showed it, Daiki was eternally grateful for her for having never given up on him even when the rest of the world did.

Sometimes, he found himself fucking up so badly that he couldn’t help but think: _“Ah,_ _Satsuki would leave for sure this time,”_ but she always came back.

She always came back, and every time she did he would feel a surge of relief rising against his suffocating thoughts, washing away all troubles in the world.

_Thank god she didn’t._


	2. 4-5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daiki really hates numbers. feelings are conflicting.

_**4\. Off course** _

The distance between the moon and the sun was approximately one hundred and fifty-two million, five hundred and three thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven kilometers.

Even at the closest point that it could get to the sun, the moon was still going to be one hundred and forty-six million, six hundred and ninety-two thousand, three hundred and seventy-eight kilometers away.

 _It’s too far of a distance,_ Daiki thought sourly, drumming his fingers against the desk. His house was two blocks from Satsuki’s and three stations away from Touou, a few buses from the national stadium. They’re all distances that he could reach within’ a reasonable amount of time without even so much as breaking into a sweat, regardless of whether or not he chooses to use public transport. It’s fast, it’s convenient, and didn’t require a lot of efforts – it was the way he preferred it.

But _one hundred and fifty-two million, five hundred and three thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven kilometers?_

If he got lucky enough that the moon was at its closest it could get to the sun, hypothetically speaking, when his feelings reached her, it would’ve taken double that distance for them to make a round trip and return to him.

One hundred and forty-six million, six-hundred and ninety-two thousand, three hundred and seventy-eight kilometers, but _doubled._

That’s how far away she was from him.

His eyes turned somber as he looked outside the window and at the endless blue sky, the clouds hurriedly drifting by, the radiant sun that never allowed him to admire it directly. The only way he dared doing it was through the cracks between his fingers, carefully, discreetly – and let the blinding sunlight seep through.

Funny how something seemed so close, and yet, was entirely out of his reach.

He’d never thought of their relationship in that way before. He didn’t even know the distance between them was _that_ vast. That extreme. That unreachable. But the fact remained that the moon really was that far away from the sun, and numbers didn’t lie.

This was why he hated math. Physics? _Who cares._

“Dai-chan.”

He blinked, willing himself out of his thoughts and back to reality, then turns towards his right, above his slightly hunched shoulder to look up. Satsuki’s gaze was zeroing in on him with a hint of curiosity, a touch of concern, her head tilted to the side. A lock of pink hair rebelliously fell from behind her ear and his eyes followed it, the way it framed her face.

“What’s on your mind?”

Lashes fluttered and lips pursed, pink eyes drowning his reflection. He gulped and moved back, nearly losing the nonchalant expression he usually wore.

She was close.

Her lips moved.

Like… _close_ close.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Nothing,” he said simply, the lines of his face molding into that same deadpan look he always had. To his horror, Satsuki leaned in even closer, bracing her hands on the desks beside them and trapping him in between. Now he had to look up, up, _up_ at her hovering form, where pink tresses fell and tickled his face; and Daiki – remembering the _doubled_ one hundred and forty-six million, six-hundred and ninety-two thousand, three hundred and seventy-eight kilometers – jerked away from her suddenly, startling both of them.

“Jeez, what are you so flighty for? Let’s go home,” Satsuki pouted and retreated back to normal standing, not noticing the visible relief that crossed his face. “…but first, you’re treating me to that ice cream!” She reminded him in a sing-song voice, then turned and left the classroom before he could potentially complain about it, leaving a dumbfounded Daiki behind.

He pressed a hand to his chest and felt the wildly beating heart there, how it threatened to leap at such a small, innocent action on her part.

Daiki knew he’s damned.

* * *

“Let’s see…”

His gaze strayed from the menu board to the girl standing beside him, who tapped a finger against her lips when she’s contemplating between the colorful variety of ice cream flavors that laid temptingly in front of them. She went for the most expensive one just to spite him, something with a ridiculous name like “Fantastic Strawberry with a Dash of Popping Heaven” _– what the actual hell_ – while he settled for chocolate.

The seller was a sweet, elderly woman who gave them each an extra scoop on the house. “You’re too kind, obaa-san,” Satsuki thanked her profusely as Daiki fished his wallet out to pay for the treat.

Then, she said that _one_ taboo, forbidden sentence that had them both stop dead in track.

“Ah, it’s nothing. You kids just remind me of how beautiful young love was,” the woman laughed kindly, taking the notes from Daiki’s hand that had frozen midair. “Such a lovely _couple_ you make!”

Silence.

Daiki cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the sudden awkwardness that had dawned upon them.

Satsuki nervously giggled.

“We’re just friends, obaa-san,” she corrected, waving her free hand around as though to clear up the misunderstanding after having given Daiki his ice cream. She didn't catch the expression that flitted across his face at her reply, and neither did the elder woman as they proceeded to exchange a few more pleasantries before finally saying goodbye.

The sun was already halfway down behind the horizon by the time they started walking back. It’s still shining brightly as ever, though, even brighter than in the morning – just more vibrant, less blinding, more colorful. It was shades of red and orange and purple all pouring together to paint an empty canvas that was the sky, dotted with flecks of white, fluffy clouds. Beside him, Satsuki was humming cheerfully to herself as she savored the sweet delicacy. If she noticed her best friend’s fixated gaze on her, she didn’t point it out.

Daiki had already finished his ice cream while Satsuki was only on her second scoop. The richness of chocolate and its cooling taste lingered artfully in his mouth – he’s full and content, and that meant his attention was now free to drift wherever else it wanted to.

And of all the things surrounding him, it chose to drift to Satsuki.

He blamed Kise entirely for this — that cheeky bastard, — for having pointed out how cute she was when she smiled, because now that he’s starting to see it, there was no way for him to just stop.

It’s not that he didn’t know.

It’s that he _knew_ , but decided not to acknowledge that fact, because it certainly didn't help their friendship any better when he noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she’s doing or looking at something she loved, things like analyzing a particularly good match and eating her favorite desserts, petting the stray animals she found on the street sometimes. It didn't help when he noticed the curl of her lips, how wide and radiant her smile was, how it made the bags underneath her eyes puff out just a little and it’s just so goddamn _cute._

It’s unfair how those inanimate objects got to be the reason of her happiness so easily without even having to try. He’s always saying the only one who could beat him was him, but Daiki supposed non-living things didn’t really fall under the category of _someone_ who could. He’d rather die than admitting he lost to or, worse, was jealous of stupid numbers and a freaking ice cream cone. Or a dog.

Of course, there was Tetsu.

But Tetsu was _different_. Tetsu was his friend, the second person which he’d consider closest to him and it just felt wrong to be envious of his friend when he knew the man couldn’t possibly be less interested in Satsuki romantic-wise. Hell, it was _Satsuki_ herself who continued to make all those fruitless advances towards someone who likely would never reciprocate her feelings, and it’s none of Daiki’s business to begin with – she could like whoever she wanted, he had no saying in this even if both of them were his closest friends.

It’s just so incredibly frustrating that she’s always throwing herself on Tetsu and hugging him and showering him in her affection. Her voice turned annoyingly pitchy when she called his name and she’s always, always, spotting that stupidly bright smile that she usually saved for her favorite TV show or the little things that genuinely make her happy.

Daiki’s so damned bitter that it hurt.

But even as bitter as he was, he knew that it’s what she deserved for having put up with not just him, but _all_ of them for so many years; for tolerating their bullshit and witnessing them at their worst, even when they had their heads so far up their asses to realize that she was hurting, too. Satsuki deserved to have someone who’s nice and kind to her, someone who had decent grades and didn’t spend half the time making her worry about him, someone who didn’t look like a common street thug.

That’s why he’s not going to rain on her parade. After all, it was that girl that followed him to Touou even when he was so sure she was going to Seirin, because, well, it _was_ Satsuki. And he shouldn’t be having these kind of thoughts in the first place.

They _were_ just friends, like she said.

Friends shouldn’t look at how their shadows stretch long ahead of them and felt a strange sort of giddiness when the line, separating the road and pavement, distorted the shadows in a way that made it look like they were holding hands.

Wait, what?

He sighed.

Satsuki was blissfully unaware of the dilemma that her words have unknowingly placed Daiki in. Instead, she continued on enjoying her treat and seemed to be lost in a little world of her own, not minding the silence that had fallen between them. She looked calm and sated, her face relaxed and gaze soft. He thought it was ~~one of~~ the most beautiful look on her.

That’s why Daiki made sure she didn’t notice him switching so that she’s walking on the safer side of the road, and playfully pushed her just gentle enough to stumble back onto the pavement.

“Ouch—! What was that for?!” she hissed, pushing him back even though it barely fazed him, and stomped ahead a few paces as if playing mad.

And when the place where her hand had just touched him tingles, Daiki knew:

_He’s gone completely off course._

_**5\. Intention** _

The bus was nearly empty.

There’s the driver in the front, of course – then there’s an old lady two rows before them in a priority seat, a grocery bag on her lap; an office worker who’s hurrying home sits opposite of her, his tie loosened and blazer folded over an arm, his briefcase placed firmly on the ground. The lines of his face contorted in exhaustion, a feeling that most people usually felt with Tokyo’s never ending rapid pace of life, and Daiki briefly wondered if that was what he’d look like five, maybe ten years from now.

He thought about the future a lot these days: about where he’d go and what he wanted to do. Naturally, the first thing that came to his mind was basketball – academics had never been his forte, so somewhere with a strong focus on sports would be ideal. After all, he had always wanted to go pro and compete on a national, maybe even international level – and he knew that that dream wasn’t entirely out of his capability if he were to work harder. But to be a little more realistic, doing sports definitely wasn’t a long-term thing: he’d soon reach a certain age where he’s too old, too weak, too much for it, and what then? Not to mention, even the strongest, most popular athletes would eventually fall out of favor once their prime time had passed.

It wasn’t stable enough.

It wasn’t, because every vision he saw of his future, without fail, featured a family with someone who had pink hair, pink eyes, someone who drooled in her sleep.

His gaze drifted to the side, over his right shoulder.

Satsuki was leaning onto the window, her head pressed against the clear panel. Her hair fell and covered half of her face and some of the strands got into her slightly agape mouth, so when she could taste them, her nose would scrunch up in disgust while her sleeping self subconsciously tried to get them out. Daiki let that went on for a while and had to suppress his laughter in return because of how ridiculously adorable she had looked doing the thing she did.

Yeah, man, he’s _whipped._

Half of him was horrified at the acknowledgement, whereas the other half heaved an audible sigh of relief that’s been held in for too many years. It’s not the first time that Daiki had caught himself thinking about his best friend in a way that he shouldn’t, and it certainly wasn’t the first time he found out that she was the only one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

 _Jeez,_ Daiki halted his thoughts for a second, _I sound like an old man._

It _was_ true, though – his brain has decided that it’d be so much more convenient if he just ended up living with Satsuki forever, even way before he realized that he saw her as more than just a friend: she knew everything that there was to know about him – his shoe sizes, the types of clothes he liked to wear, how to interpret the different kinds of silences and glances that he had, the way he liked his steak. Sure, that also meant he would have to have to put up with her nagging for the rest of his life and her horrendous, inedible cooking, but that’s okay, because he was more than willing to meet her in the middle.

He couldn’t even do so much as seeing himself with another girl, because getting to know someone else meant that she didn’t automatically know everything about him like Satsuki did and that he had to _manually_ tell her everything from scratch; it also equaled to him having to put efforts into learning about that girl as well, about whether or not she could eat spicy food, if she touched her face whenever she’s nervous, how stuffed toys were her absolute weakness.

He only wanted to share all the good things in life with Satsuki.

The acknowledgement itself was scary, because now that he’d given up lying to himself and trying to stop the unstoppable, he realized that everything he did, he did with _intentions_.

Like reaching out to brush the hair away and tucking it behind her ear just so he could see the sunset illuminating her face, the way it airbrushes her features and made her look radiant, soft and ethereal, the lip gloss she wore catching sunlight on its sparkles. Her lashes fanned over the high points of her cheekbones and he felt the temptation to glide his thumb across them, to see if they’d feel as he had vividly imagined, but Daiki stopped himself just barely in time and trailed it to the corner of her mouth instead, wiping the little sliver of drool away.

He didn’t have to, but he slipped an arm behind her and shifted so that she was leaning onto his shoulder and not the moving vehicle, told himself that he’s only doing this so she wouldn’t complain about having a neck cramp once they got off the bus and not because he’s selfish and wanted to feel her even closer against himself, wanted to drown in the smell of her shampoo, wanted her head against the crook of his neck, his arm draping over her.

_Even if it was just for ten minutes._

He didn’t have to, but he allowed her to continue sleeping peacefully when the bus came to a stop. He should wake her up, but instead, he held both of their bags in one hand and carried her on his back, her arms over his shoulders, his forearms underneath her ~~supple~~ thighs to hold her up. He’d be lying if he said the proximity wasn’t making him red in the face, after all, he wasn't immune to cute girls — but it’s Satsuki and there’s a boundary there, a line of thoughts he shouldn’t cross even if it was justified as a mere product of raging hormones. They got quite a few head turns and weird stares on the way, but it’s okay as long as he got her home safely, he thought – it’s not that he wanted to feel the warmth of her against him, he just didn’t want to suffer the wrath of her mom who albeit was a very kind woman, could be super terrifying when mad (he’s speaking from experience).

It's really not because in this very, very moment, she didn’t feel all that far from him, that unattainable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm terribly sorry for the long wait, but now new chapters are here! hopefully the read will compensate, and as always, please feel free to leave your thoughts! thank you for reading!


	3. 6-8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> daiki didn't want to rain on satsuki's parade, neither did she on his. misunderstandings are ensured.

**_6\. Pride_ **

During the third year of their high school, Satsuki had witnessed the most drastic changes ever happened to her best friend.

It felt as though there was a new side to Aomine Daiki that she hadn’t really uncovered — which, was already a strange notion in itself, but it was even stranger seeing a Dai-chan who spent his time weighing his options carefully rather than just winging it, a Dai-chan who studied diligently to get average grades just because he wanted his report form to look _nice_ enough _._ These days, Daiki would’ve already been good to go by the time Satsuki got to his house instead of being half-asleep underneath his cover and dangling halfway off the bed, mouth agape. He would stop skipping practices, start going to classes of his own volition, and even managed to hold what was perhaps the most perfect attendance score he had ever held for the past twelve years of education.

Not only that, but his attitude towards other people had changed as well. This much was evident from the way he treated the lowerclassmen, and to be more specific, those who had belonged to school’s basketball club. By all means, Satsuki knew he had always cared for his teammates regardless of whether or not he chose to acknowledge it, even way before he was bound by the title of Captain — it just wasn’t something that he knew how to express, verbally or physically, and to those who didn’t know him that well, might sometimes even come across as arrogance.

But being promoted to Captain had certainly shifted him one way or another, even though it wasn’t a decision that had pleased everyone at first. In fact, Wakamatsu had caused quite a commotion when he announced that he was going to pass the torch on to Daiki, surprising everyone and, heck, even the blue-haired ace himself. It was a popular belief amongst the club members that his attitude was going to make it hard for everyone to keep up with, and Satsuki couldn’t really blame them if she tried: after all, it’s true that he was the best player of them all, the strongest, the _miracle —_ but his constant absence and utter lack of teamwork throughout their entire first year had marred his reputation so much that not even Vorpal Swords’ victory after that could clear up.

Why Wakamatsu had insisted on keeping his firm choice, Satsuki had no idea.

What surprised her the most was the fact that Daiki, although taken aback, had not turned down the offer as she thought he would.

In the moment of silence that followed Wakamatsu’s announcement, Satsuki had half expected him to make a fuss about it, tease their former centre and walk out the door, anything of the sort — because being a captain came with a lot of responsibilities; and it’s not that she didn’t believe he couldn’t do it, she just thought that it wasn’t something he had _wanted_ to do.

True to her fears, the first week had been tough: no one could match up to Daiki’s unrelenting pace and his short temper made most of their new members seemed to be _intimidated_ into practicing rather than actually wanting to do so; his lack of patience made it easy for some people to misinterpret his words, get offended, and all of that combined together was just a recipe for disasters waiting to happen. It was like sitting on a ticking bomb and not knowing when it was going to explode, and no matter how badly Satsuki had tried to balance his crude captaincy with her rational management, she feared it wouldn’t haven been enough to keep their club together, let alone winning the Winter Cup.

Oh, but she was wrong.

It’s safe to say that the captain role didn’t grow on Aomine Daiki. Rather, it was something that _he_ grew into.

Slow, but surely, he started to change his ways around others, and before Satsuki knew it, she was already getting used to _Captain Aomine_ syncing himself to his teammates, adjusting his pace, his playing pattern all while retaining all the signature moves that made his style, _his —_ and what was scarier than an unbeatable player than an unbeatable player who could adapt to everyone on his team, who brought the best out of them skillfully and spiritually wise?

Of course, he wasn’t the only one changing, either. Once the newcomers had gotten used to him and the big words he said, they realized that he wasn’t all as mean as his notorious reputation had made him out to be – after all, he wasn’t the same person he was two years ago; and if briefly, Satsuki could still find that carefree boy in him, the one who would pull all those ridiculous, physics-defying moves so naturally it made everyone go speechless with awe. Only this time, he wasn’t doing them to show off, but to teach others, and even though he still lost his patience every now and then, Satsuki could see through the poorly concealed swell of pride he got whenever those boys addressed him as _Captain_ or _Aomine-senpai,_ whenever they managed to pull off those tricks he had taught them, even if they were nowhere as effortless.

Satsuki thought about the drive behind his changes sometimes, and she speculated that perhaps it was because he knew, from the perspective of someone who’s been through it all, the complicated transition phase that his _kouhais_ were going through – whether it’s with their bodies physically or with schoolwork, basketball or exams. It’s a lot and he was taking all of what they might be feeling into account by observing their actions: the slouch of their shoulders indicating a stressful day at school, the slight hunch in their steps signifying someone who’s been overworking. Daiki understood it all and he’s doing his best to turn basketball into something enjoyable for them, something that could help them vent off the exhaustion as it did when he was in their shoes, now that Touou had finally secured their victory after two years of proving themselves as the most formidable tyrant.

Daiki still complained about the load of homework and how much they needed to study; he still dropped his head onto the table so loudly that it almost got them kicked out of the library every now and then, still made her explain to him the same math problem over and over again because he kept zoning out, and as much as she wanted to hit him for it sometimes, she didn’t — because more than anyone else, she knew how hard he was trying to be better. She knew better than to tease about the efforts he’s putting in to show everyone that he’s more than capable of taking care of himself, of being responsible. And in spite of everyone’s skeptical opinions of how fast he was changing whether or not that growth was consistent, he ignored them and kept on doing what he believed was right. It didn’t matter if it’s taken him this long, better late than never.

These days, her schedule was freed up a bit and then some more, because she no longer had to wake up earlier to make sure she had enough time for hauling Daiki out of bed, and she didn’t have to run around the school trying to get him to class in time, either. She didn’t have to worry about him slacking off or not attending practices, even on the days that she’s occupied with health committee work or extra classes for advanced students, because he was always with Sakurai and the freshmen who surely would have made sure to keep him right on track.

Their time with each other was reduced to walks to and back from school, and on some occasions — study sessions at either of their houses, when he’d need some help with his homework. This was because practices left little free time to have a private conversation, their extra tutoring at school didn’t match up due to them being put in different classes this year, and on the weekends that Satsuki wasn’t busy with other club activities, she just spent all day sleeping to replenish her energy. On those days, Daiki didn’t bother her, even though she kind of wished he had.

_Everything changes._

_Sometimes so fast that you won’t see it coming._

_Sometimes so slow that you won’t realize it’s there._

The second one was scarier in Satsuki’s opinion, because every time her mind tried to warn her that _something_ was wrong, something was off between them – she’d analyze the situation, only to find that nothing was out of place.

When in reality, the changes were just too small for her to notice.

* * *

College entrance exams passed by in a haste.

Before anyone knew it, the three years of high school that the students had both dreaded and looked forward to, loved and hated, had found their ways through the first spring breezes to an end.

Momoi Satsuki didn’t cry on her graduation day.

After all, she had wasted so much of her first year brooding over the past that this time, she was determined to leave on a good note – and that meant no tears, no frowns, no creases of the eyebrows.

As expected of a student council president, she had worn the brightest smile that day and held her head high, standing proudly at the attention of their families when the teachers came up stage to congratulate them, when the music started playing and she was given her diploma, when everyone gathered to take one final photo together.

She was still standing prim and proper when their classmates proposed a group hug, when words of encouragement and hope for the future were passed around, when the student council members thanked her for the past year.

By the time people had left the auditorium where the ceremonies were held, which just so happened to be the very same gym that she had spent the last three years managing Touou Academy’s basketball team in, Satsuki was almost certain that she had succeeded in going through the entire day without dropping a single tear, in spite of the tight knot coiling in her throat and the sting at the corners of her eyes, threatening to burst.

Before she closed the door, Satsuki turned to glance behind, took one final, good look at the whole room: from its high ceiling to the lights that were now turned off, the little windows where the sun would occasionally sneak through, the hoops that have withstood the trials of Aomine Daiki’s prodigal talents, and the stage where they would all sprawl across during the breaks, munching on Sakurai’s homemade treats. She looked at the benches on the sides of the court and recalled the time she had spent strategizing with coach Harasawa there, the nets full of old basketballs — then at the floor where she could still hear the hasty footsteps, the squeakiness of their sport shoes, scraping against.

Satsuki took in a deep breath, slowly, then exhaled.

“See you again, Touou Gakuen’s basketball club,” she whispered to the empty room, and with a smile, slid the door close.

When she turned around, Daiki was already waiting for her. His back was to the sun and it casted his shadow broad over her, nearly covering all of the bright blue sky, and blocking her view in a way that it was full of Daiki and him only.

“Y’ready to go?” He asked with no sense of urgency at all, more so for the sake of it than anything else. His school bag was flung over his shoulder and he had a hand stuck in his pocket, nonchalantly as always, but he no longer looked like the boy who had held a deep grudge against the world – his shirt was tucked in, and throughout the years he had allowed his hair to grow out long enough that it could be brushed back handsomely, just for the occasion.

She wondered since when Dai-chan could look handsome in her eyes.

They decided to stop by their classroom for a little and took some time admiring the vastness of the track field from there in utter silence; then to the rooftop, where they both ditched their bags at the door and sat there reminiscing their favorite memories from last year, the times when they would eat lunch together, slept through the afternoon together and woke up when the sun was already halfway down the horizon, signaling it was time to go home.

They had been laughing together at this one particular funny incident involving Sakurai and a group of over-energetic freshmen trying to terrorize the poor, constantly apologetic lad when Daiki suddenly went quiet and laid down, hands folded beneath his head, legs crossed.

“Satsuki, I have something to tell you.”

“Mhm?” She hummed absentmindedly, tracing circles on the tiled floor.

“I’m going to America.”

Her movements halted all at once.

_Silence._

And then she smiled, bitterly.

It was so characteristic of him to drop a bomb on her like that — “ _Satsuki, I’m going to join **the** Teikou’s basketball club!” and “Satsuki, I don’t want to play basketball anymore,” “Satsuki, I’ve signed up for Touou Academy instead,” _— there was no easing her into the news, no warning beforehand; he’s blunt and straightforward about everything and the definition of beating around the bush never existed in his dictionary, but as much as she had appreciated that honesty, sometimes, Satsuki wished he had known how cruel it was of him.

Hell, she wished he knew how damn amazing she was to have withstood that lack of sensitivity of his all these years, the amount of patience and strength she had exerted just because it was so, so _painful_ whenever he’d pull that card.

Call her a crybaby, but even when she had mentally braced herself for the news a long time ago (because it was ridiculous of him to think he could hide something that big from her, she’d known from his mom since the beginning of the year), Satsuki still couldn’t help but feel her mouth going dry, the lump forming in her throat.

She swallowed it down anyway. After all, Satsuki had no one else to blame.

It was her choice to stay in the first place.

“…Are you serious?! That’s amazing—! That’s so cool, congratulations, Dai-chan!” She tilted her head towards him and mustered the brightest smile she could offer, tittered and shook his shoulders with childlike enthusiasm. Not out of her expectation, he brushed her hands off and shifted his glance elsewhere, saying things like _thanks_ and _it’s kinda cool, I guess,_ bluffing his swelling pride away as though it was no big deal. She’s glad he didn’t look at her to find the lopsided smile, glad she’s become this well at hiding her emotions.

Satsuki looked up, up, _up_ at the sky, that bright blue sky above until she was craning her neck, and let gravity stop her tears from falling because it was the only way she knew how.

The sky was so vast that surely, she hoped, there would be enough space to hold all of her feelings.

_**7\. Question** _

The night before he left, Daiki found himself waiting outside Satsuki’s window again with his trustworthy bike. Whether it was for a spec of nostalgia or for the sake of creating one last memory, he didn’t know why he was there — but what he did know was that he wanted to see her, so he _had to._

This time, Satsuki didn’t chastise his spontaneity, nor did she fall and crash on him when climbing off the second floor. It was still spring and cold outside, the wind tousling the pink tresses that she had grown out to waist-length. Satsuki was wearing their school’s jacket over a printed sweater and these matching, cuffed up fluffy pajama bottoms that seemed warm, but were noticeably way too long on her slender legs. It fitted her kind of cutely and he really shouldn’t be having those thoughts.

They shared a look before she wordlessly got on his bike.

The road to the field with the Napier grass was one that’s ingrained so deep in him he didn’t have to see to follow the right path — his hands were navigating on their own and that had freed up some of his brain capacity to focus on something else; things like how strange it was to be aware that this would be the last time he saw Satsuki for a really, really long time. In a few years, he wouldn’t get the chance to sneak her out on a midnight rendezvous, no more giving her a ride and having her this close, hands on his waist and head leaning against his back. He had always wanted to know what kind of a face she made when she did so, if she looked as comfortable as she had felt, warm and protected.

It was hard to get used to not being around her even before it happened, and hard was an understatement.

The field with the Napier grass remained ever the same, its presence peaceful and calming, beautifully enhanced by the fireflies’ luminescence, _familiar._

They left the bike on the outskirt and raced each other to the middle like they used to as children — it wasn’t a secret as to who usually won these little competitions, but this time, he let her ran one step ahead so that he could settle on watching her from behind: the oversized sleepwear was almost drowning her in it and she looked ridiculous holding onto her pants like that, but her steps remained quick and nimble as he had remembered and she found her way through the tall grass with such ease that he imagined she would have looked as effortless running in a white sundress as she had in those clothes, graceful and enchanting.

Satsuki reached their destination first and she spun around, moonlight painting her silhouette with sparkles, her hair billowing around her – she was laughing without a care in the world and suddenly his heart was racing for an entirely different reason than the workout, beating a hundred and eighty per minute.

“I don’t understand.”

Satsuki tilted her head curiously at him. “Don’t understand what, why you lost? Seriously, I keep telling you to drop the catchphrase, it stopped making sense like, three years ago, you know? It wasn’t even—”

“No,” Daiki looked at her in such a way that her words died before they could even reach her throat. “I don’t understand _you_.”

He’d said those words to her before, throughout the years that they had known each other when he simply couldn’t understand the drives behind her actions sometimes, why she felt the need to be validated by others so much, why she was friends with him. It was only when they got older and he understood that certain things weren’t to be explained that he stopped saying it, even though he slipped every now and then during their friendly quarrels, out of frustration. But there was something more to it this time that she could just see from the look in his azure eyes, the way his lips tightened.

Her smile dropped.

“A few weeks ago, we met up with the others and you _cried_ over Midorima leaving for the States.” She flinched at the accusing tone of his voice. “You made a _fuss_ over Kise who’s only moving to Osaka that’s _two_ _hours_ from here. Hell, you were _hysterical_ about Tetsu, even though he’s not going anywhere!” He paused to catch a breath and Satsuki stared past him, at the direction where she knew their bike was parked, and calculated her chance of outrunning a basketball prodigy. “You claimed you were going to _die_ from loneliness, and here you are, acting like nothing’s happening. Like I haven’t been with you for the past _eighteen_ years,” he bitterly confessed. “Maybe I overestimated how much I meant to you.”

Satsuki felt as though she was going to faint from the lightheadedness. Where was this sudden outburst coming from? What was he even saying? “No, Dai-chan, that’s not what I—”

“Then tell me,” he interrupted her impatiently. “Tell me what makes _me_ different from others.” Her eyes darted around to look at the field, the sky, the ground — anywhere but his own. Daiki reached out and grasped her shoulders, turning her in a way so that she would _have to_ look at him, but even then she avoided his gaze.

“Satsuki, _please.”_

His plea came out so quietly and desperately, she was afraid that she had really made him mad for good.

“Because if you don’t, I can’t help but think I don’t mean that much to you.”

Her chin lifted and their eyes met, azure confronting her magenta ones. His intense gaze was drilling into her vacant, remorseful expression in such a way that it sent shivers running down her spine coldly, unwelcoming.

It was at that moment that Satsuki realized the Daiki she had been staring at reminded her way too much of the fourteen years old boy who would question his worth and hopelessly looked for the meaning of life in all the wrong places amidst this bleak, depressing world. It was the same Daiki who had felt so cripplingly insecure, so unsure that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t make him see himself the way she had viewed him as: the strongest, the kindest, the best. She remembered wanting so badly to tell him, if only he knew how he had worth everything to her.

So why was this happening, then? She had only wanted to be brave. She had only wanted to show him nothing but support and appreciation, so that he would know he wasn’t making a wrong decision, that he was following where he had always been destined to go.

She had only wanted him not to worry about her, because she was fine with staying here even though they had wanted to pursue that dream together: him as the invincible ace, her as his brilliant mastermind, and them as the unbeatable duo. She was okay with being here, because it had never been her wish to flourish in the field of basketball as much as it had been his — because her dream, even back then and until now, had always been staying beside him.

Them, _together,_ was her reverie.

So how was it that she had managed to screw up this badly, make him misunderstand all of her intentions? How came he had ended up hurt, when it was the last thing she ever wanted to do?

“Don’t…”

Her lips trembled.

“Don’t…”

It was so _unfair._

He’s always coming onto her like that, quick and intense and utterly overwhelming, sweeping her off of her feet. He gave her no time to react or even to think of a reasonable solution, because one look into his eyes and she’d already forgotten the things she had promised herself never to do, never to say. Against her more rational self, her resolve cracked and shattered, a lone tear slid down her cheek.

“ _Don’t leave me,”_ she let out shakily, more tears falling in wake of the first.

“Please don’t leave me, Dai–chan.” It was a desperate plea, her voice barely above a whisper that cracked ever so slightly at the end of each syllable. “D-Don’t leave me, ‘cause I don’t— I don’t…know, how…Oh god.” Horror bursted through the empty look on her face and Satsuki’s hands quickly shot up to cover her mouth as if she had just said something so utterly forbidden.

Daiki’s hands gripped her tighter. He was staring at her blankly, his gaze not once leaving her face and that frightened her even further. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, that wasn’t—” her finger curled around his, trying to pry them off so she could run away and just hide, hide from everything until she found the courage to confront the consequences of her action again, but he was so much faster than her — as he had always been — and he had her wrist in his grip before she could even turn from him. “I’m sorry! You weren’t supposed to hear that, Dai-chan, please!” She cried, trying desperately to pull her arm free from his hold.

“Satsuki.”

She’s acting hysterical.

“I’m so sorry, Dai-chan, I—”

Her eyes widened.

_**8\. Roses** _

He had imagined kissing Satsuki before, a hundred times in a hundred different scenarios. He’d imagined kissing her whenever she rambled about Tetsu just to shut her up; in his living room, with the lights off and the TV on, when she’s crying over a generic romcom; at school, during summer, at practice, when she’s washing her face at the sink and her hair got in the way, she would tuck them daintily behind her ear and he could see droplets of water trailing down her skin, the way pink tresses stuck to the nape of her neck.

But none of them compared to the real thing.

It’s a strange, indescribable feeling that he’d never experienced before. Satsuki’s lips were as soft as they looked, pink and full, and even softer — like velvet and petals of roses, gliding against his own. He’d been so taken aback at the impulsiveness of his own action that he was staring back into her widened eyes for a brief second, before closing them and surrendering himself to the kiss, allowed it to take over his senses entirely. Satsuki smelled so much like flowers and peaches and everything sweet in this world that he couldn’t resist pressing a bit closer to her, wanting to get more than just a whiff. He was standing so incredibly still that he could practically hear his heartbeat strumming in his ears, feel it threaten to sever his ribcage.

Around them, the spring breeze rung.

They remained motionless for awhile, until the dread started to settle in Daiki’s stomach: after all, he had just willingly betted their entire friendship in exchange for this one second of pure bliss, and Satsuki had not said a single word since — nor had she made any movement to respond to, or turn away from his advances. Slowly, his eyes lifted, and the look of pure horror in her own widened ones was enough to make them spring open completely. He pulled away from her almost instantly and dropped her hands so fast she might as well have scorched him, like fire.

_“_ Satsuki—”

_Smack!_

His cheek throbbed painfully under the force of her hand.

“What was _that_ for, you idiot?!” Satsuki all but yelled into his face and Daiki grimaced at the volume, though he made no move to stop her. He deserved it, he had it coming.

He should’ve known better, the dreadful monster in him leered uglily, because judging by her reaction, there was no way their friendship could recover from this.

This was it.

He fucked up.

“Did you think that was funny, huh?! I bet you thought oh, Satsuki won’t shut up, how about I just kiss her, mhm?! She’ll forgive me anyways, right? Like she always _fucking_ does!” In spite of the animosity in her words, Satsuki’s voice was trembling violently, a sob ripping from her throat. “Has it ever occurred to you that _I_ have feelings, too?! Or do you just see me as someone you can keep when you need, and leave when you don’t?!”

Daiki reached out to her, feeling sick. “Satsuki—”

“Don’t you _dare_ touch me!” She swatted his hand away and took a step back to prevent him from coming any closer. If looks could kill, her glare would’ve torn him apart a million times and then some more; the tears streaming endlessly down her face did nothing to waver the gleaming intensity in her eyes. “How does it feel to have someone at your convenience?! Who’ll never leave you no matter how badly you screw up? Must be fun, isn’t it?” Every word cut like a blade, but Daiki couldn’t find it in him to respond to her. His mouth opened as if to say something, then closed, then opened again.

Nothing came out.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her otherwise — that none of what she had just said was true, that he was sorry, that he knew he’d been taking for her granted and she deserved a thousand, a million times better than this pain. But even as he tried to find the right words to say, nothing seemed to be enough when he watched her shoulders heave as she fought to hold back the sobs quietly, brokenly, crying the way he hadn’t seen her cry since they were sixteen.

“Satsuki…” he tried again. “I’m sorry—”

She cut him off almost instantly. “Are you now?” The corner of her lips lifted in a bitter, almost painful smile. “Really? You think that’s enough, don’t you? It’s just a meaningless kiss after all.” She chuckled and looked up at the sky, hastily wiping away at her cheeks until the crying stopped. When she turned to glance at him again, her eyes stung red and the tears had left dried tracks in their wake, dampened her lashes. “…but it wasn’t meaningless to me.”

Blue eyes widened.

“It wasn’t meaningless to me, because for the first time, it finally felt like— Like you had taken a step towards me,” she had to pause here to suck in a breath shakily. “I’ve always tried so hard to keep up with you: every day, you keep taking one step forward, and I’m always following behind. Dai-chan’s back is really reliable, you know,” her smile widened at this and her eyes stared off somewhere else vacantly, as if she’s drawing out that vision. “I didn’t mind that at all, because you’d look back sometimes and that was enough for me. But it still— It _hurts_. It hurts so much that I’ll forever be one step behind you because the lengths of our steps differ, because I overestimated myself — because no matter how fast I run, I still can’t chase after you, Dai-chan, _you’re so far away_.”

She collapsed onto her knees, clamped her hands over her mouth and tried to muffle back the broken sobs raking through her form, her hair falling over her face like a curtain.

Daiki felt numb.

He had been so caught up in his self-pity, so selfish to look beyond his own pain that he hadn’t realized she was suffering, too — he hadn’t seen the hurt he had caused her because he didn’t know since when she had gotten so damn good at hiding it, and then Daiki shuddered, in horror, at the thought of no longer understanding Momoi Satsuki and being the person whom she trusted with her vulnerability, whom she came to when she needed to borrow a shoulder to cry on.

He had been so busy sticking his head in the whole _one hundred and fifty-two million, five hundred and three thousand, three hundred and ninety-seven kilometers_ belief that he didn’t realize Satsuki was feeling the same way.

And there he stood, not knowing what to do.

His heart was hammering loudly in his chest, bis brain whirring as it tried to process the multitude of contrasting emotions all at once: the fear and regret that had plagued him in the wake of his actions, yet at the same time, the thrilling euphoria that appeared when it finally hit him that his feelings were not at all unrequited — that on the contrary, she had felt the same way. All these years of falling, pining, waiting for her, and still Daiki sensed a pang of disassociation because it was hard to believe that _Satsuki_ herself had been the one to profess her feelings first — it was strange, surreal, unbelievable, and entirely too good to be true. If he woke up from this dream right now, he wouldn’t even have been mad.

But her cries struck him like lightning and pulled him back to reality.

Daiki knelt down beside her. Satsuki had given up on any thoughts of self-perseverance she’d had prior and was now quietly weeping, both hands covering her face as she hid behind her hair.

“I’m sorry, Satsuki.”

He said awkwardly, in the most gentle tone he’d reserved only for her, and pulled her close until her body was against his, her tears dampening his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her the same manner she would have done for him, because he could think of no other way to comfort her — growing up, she had always been better at calming a crying Daiki than he had a crying Satsuki; but if there was any lesson that Daiki had learnt throughout the years that they had been together, it was that sometimes the right thing to say didn’t exist.

So he settled on stroking her hair and patting her back, wondering where everything had gone wrong, when the complications in their relationships had occurred, and how they could have allowed this to happen when they were supposed to know each other so well.

Satsuki didn’t push him away. The next five minutes she spent trying to calm down, her sobs subsiding to fractured exhales. The field was eerily silent in the wake of her meltdown saved for the sound of wind and the grass swaying calmly to its movement, the fireflies buzzing about. Daiki could hear the irregular rhythm of her breathing steadying itself back to regulation and he briefly wondered if she, too, could hear how his heart was beating in his chest, aching along with every fibre of his being as he tightened his arms around her in a way he never had before.

“Satsuki.”

_I like you._

Those three simple words seemed so little, and yet could carry along with them the weight of his unspoken feelings all these long years — all the time they spent together, all the quarrels, all the walk homes, the ups and the downs. Their significance was so heavy that he felt it wasn’t nearly enough saying them just once. So he did it, over and over again, uttering those three little words — _I like you, Satsuki, I have been for a long time, I like you, —_ in hope they would cross the stupid distance between midnight and daybreak and took the leap of faith that was separating them all this time, praying to the deities above they would reach her heart. Even if it didn’t, at the very least, he hoped it would rinse him clean of the accusation that he had kissed her purely to shut her up, because he would have never — Aomine Daiki had been many things to his childhood friend, things like jerk or bastard or even heartless sometimes, but he had never been a bad friend who would've messed around with her feelings like that.

Because he _knew_ how it felt like. How much it had sucked.

So, really, he didn’t understand why she’s slowly pulling away from him and lifting her head up to look at him like that _,_ eyes glistening with tears and widened in mortification as if he had said something so _horrible_ that she just couldn’t believe it; and it hurt — it hurt worse than that time they called him a monster on court, because what else could you do when you confessed over a decade’s worth of feelings to someone only to have them look at you as though you had just committed the worst crime ever known to mankind?

That, and _why didn’t you tell me earlier?!_

He looked at her in disbelief.

Satsuki’s staring him down and he _knew_ that look she’s giving him, hated him ever since he could comprehend it: it was one she would use when she had set her mind on a conclusion and wouldn’t change it for the world unless proven otherwise, the one that told him there was nothing he could do or say to justify himself even if she was in the wrong; and it must’ve been the only thing he had truly disliked about Satsuki, as amazing of a friend she was — sometimes, she was just so stubborn, so confident with her data and her intuitiveness that she just wouldn’t hear him out. Daiki was flawed, he knew that, and he understood that she had all the right to think badly of him in certain situations, and she could chastise him all she wanted as long as she would listen to his side of the story first.

“I don’t know, Satsuki,” he looked away for a moment and then back at her. “Maybe it’s because you’re always following Tetsu around like a lost puppy and professing your _undying_ love for him? Hell, I don’t even know if you really just confessed to me or if it was all a fever dream!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in bitterness.

And immediately regretted the words just spoken.

Hurt flashed through Satsuki’s eyes.

“Why…Why is it _my_ fault now?” She finally breathed out after a moment of recollecting her thoughts. “Have you even considered that I felt just the same as you did? _Terrified?_ Because I am _freaking_ terrified of it! I am terrified of you changing, of me changing, of this innocent infatuation changing, of this happiness we had turning of this happiness we have turning into memories that I can only reminisce about with time and, and you, suddenly going from Dai-chan to just _that boy I used to be in love with!”_

She was full out raising her voice that echoed around the endless field, but Daiki was having none of it. “And has it ever occurred to _you_ how much it fucking sucks having to see you pining after a guy who never would have spared you a second look, and that guy turned out to be your best mate?!” The ugly bitterness in his voice seeped through his words. “Has it ever occurred to you that I never made that one step because I was fucking _scared_ that if I had, I would have lost the chance to _be_ beside you let alone staying friends? I’d rather watch you throw yourself at Tetsu than risk losing our friendship altogether because _that’s_ the only way I could stay with you!”

They stared at each other after the outbursts, faces red and chests heaving, then suddenly fell quiet.

The epiphany hit them like a train wreck. It was only at that moment that they realized with instant regret that what they dreaded the most had finally become a reality — a reality that they couldn’t run away from or turn around no matter how much they tried, the same way that those spoken words could never be taken back. It was exactly because they had known each other so well, had been so sure of understanding everything there was to understand, so stubborn with the constant push and pull that they had fallen into one another’s blind spots and allowed themselves to drift apart without being aware of when everything had gone wrong. And now they were stuck here, sharing a mutual look of dejection because they both were clever enough to know there was nothing they could possibly do to mend this tear that they had ended up causing themselves, years after years of being too afraid, too scared, too insecure.

“Satsuki…?”

_Please._

Satsuki quietly shook her head.

Not a word was said the entire time it had taken for them to go back home. She didn’t lean onto him like she had before they come, and he didn’t press the matter any more than he should have. When they reached her house, he dropped her off and stayed behind even after she had disappeared into her room, waiting for something that even he was unsure of.

Maybe it was a goodbye, or a turn of her head to look back at him.

Either way, it never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, these three were insanely hard to write. i apologize beforehand for any ooc-ness you might find, but i hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless! let me know what you think! x


	4. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- if we had a chance to go back in time, back to spring that year... what would you see?
> 
> \- you.

_**9\. Flashback** _

As a teenager, Daiki disliked a lot of things about Tokyo.

He missed the childhood days when it was a lot quieter and cleaner, easier to find a place to play basketball at or hang out with other children. Street courts and playgrounds were everywhere and everything was so convenient, so within’ reach to him that it never took him too long to get from one point to another — be it from his house to school or to the nearest konbini, the field of Napier grass.

And then he grew and so did Tokyo with its skyscrapers and billboards, the alarming amount of people moving there in hope of changing their lives for the better, the centre of Japan’s version of American dreams. Street courts and playgrounds were replaced by parking lots and restaurants that he had never even stepped a foot inside, and instead of being able to ride a bike to school he had to use the public transport that was always filled to the brink with people during rush hours, chasing the hectic lifestyle they had chosen for themselves. The city was constantly full of car noises and advertisements and loud music, robotic announcements and people talking that he could rarely find a moment of peace wherever he went. He had disliked it so much that, really, he couldn’t understand why it was that New York was exactly the same, but he still couldn’t familiarize himself with the city.

He’s twenty-two now and in his last year of college, well on his way to become a rising star amongst the athletic youths here. He knew he’s gotten into the eye of some scouting agencies, had seen them scrutinizing his every move and noting things down from the side lines. Basketball had remained his unrelenting passion — if anything, being in an environment with so many opportunities and room for growth had drilled it even further into his bones, if that was even possible for Aomine Daiki. He practically lived and breathed basketball outside of classes, had started making money out of competing in certain championships and winning, of course; it truly felt like he was living a dream.

His schedule was almost always full and when he’s not practicing, he’s hanging around with his fellow teammates here, some friends he had made during these four years of college in spite of the initial paranoia that he wouldn’t have been able to fit it. Everything worked out in the end, though, once he had gotten past the culture shocks and differences. Really, he was living the best life he could ever have, it’s just that something was lacking here, he felt. There was always an unidentifiable sense of emptiness that he couldn’t quite put a finger on whenever he passed by a small convenience store, or saw an assistant scribbling away on their clipboard during practices.

_11:11 pm._

The room was filled with darkness, saved for the dimly glowing light of Daiki’s desk lamp. He sat there fiddling with the content of his wallet, soaking wet because he had forgotten to take it out of his pocket when he did laundry. Fortunately enough for him, it was the old one that he had switched not too long ago, so what was emptied out were merely a couple of notes, some receipts he hadn’t gotten to throw away, and—

A laminated, waterproof photo.

It was small and shone underneath the light of his lamp, glistening as new. On it, Daiki recognized his own eighteen years old self and nearly wanted to laugh at the sight — he was so lanky then, all awkward limbs too long for his torso and strange proportions that he never really noticed. The photo was taken on their high school graduation day, he mused, noting the cylindrical case his teenage self was holding and Touou Academy’s name board behind, proudly in gold. There was a small, genuine smile spotting on his face that by then had no longer felt out of place, and to the right side of the photo, hanging onto his free arm — was a brightly smiling Satsuki with her long, long pink hair and the fallen cherry blossoms dusting it, the wind weaving between the tresses. Her arm was linked around his with no shyness and she, too, was holding the same case as he had, showing it off proudly to the camera.

The sense of nostalgia was strong as it washed over him in waves: he couldn’t help but recalling those carefree days he had spent under the roof of Touou and the blue sky above it, blissfully sleeping his math lessons away. He remember spontaneous trips to the konbini and the arcade after school with his old teammates, remember talking back to his former captains, messing around with the junior ones; and in each and every single one of those scenarios, there was one constant, never changing factor that made him realize why it was so, so hard to forget Tokyo even if he didn’t quite like it as much as New York.

A very familiar factor.

The only reason why he had ended up falling in love with that city, because he had fallen in love with a person living in it.


	5. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the sky was still so clear even after you left. it's like nothing had changed.

_**10\. Tomorrow** _

Satsuki looked up.

_Ah, the sky was so blue._

Once upon a time, it was her favorite color in all shades and forms: she found the blue of the sky vivid, the blue of the sea mesmerizing, the blue of Kuroko Tetsuya relieving and the blue of Aomine Daiki electric, irresistible, infectious. Fast forward to the future, she was now no longer that same girl who found colors romantic and their symbols deep, who would daydream in class about ifs and whatnots. And she hated the color blue: the color of tomorrow, the color of the endless sky, the color of the vast ocean. They always said that blue symbolized hope, but she could not find another color that had made her feel as hopeless — hopelessly waiting for someone to come back, hopelessly waiting for a text, a call, a glimpse of him, hopelessly watching him leave.

The day he left, Satsuki felt like he had taken along with him half of her everything.

Nobody understood how miserable she was — her family and friends just assumed that it was only because she wasn’t used to getting by without him yet, after all, they had been together for a decade and then some more. But they didn’t know what had happened between her and Daiki, what had driven her to the point that she isolated herself for an entire week after he left, refusing to talk to anyone. Seeing him off was hard — having to deal with the aftermath on her own was even harder, because she was already so used coming to him with her problems that she had nowhere to turn to now that he was gone, no one she could trust not to judge her half as much. Daiki had left and along with him her best friend, her partner, her family, her first love. Everywhere she went to was filled with memories of them together, every crook and corner of this city printed with his traits and it nearly drove insane with missing him, missing his stupid nonchalance, wishing _their_ days back.

She knew they were both at faults, and perhaps hers more so than his — but it was too late and whether they had wanted it or not, life moved on and things slowly started to get back to normal, back to the way she was accustomed to living. Nothing really changed that drastically because she was still going about her day doing everything she was used to do, only with one less companion.

Two years ago, Momoi Satsuki graduated top of her cohort with a bachelor in sports and exercise science.

Why she continued to pursue sports, Satsuki didn’t know — perhaps it was because she didn’t want to abandon the talent she had for statistics that she had nurtured all these years, even when it wasn’t acknowledged due to her lacking as an athlete; or maybe it was because in the end of it all, she had managed to fall in love with basketball itself and not the one who played it best, although he was the main and first influence. Either way, she had found a path she desired to walk on and was now walking it, studying for her Master’s while training to become a performance analyst, and truth to be told, Satsuki thought her life was going pretty good: she was educated, had a job, had a lot of friends and connections and she was still on good terms with her parents despite living on her own, that was eighty percent of her teenage life plan on the right track — so, really, life was good.

At twenty-four, she had her plate full with studies and work, and when you were a twenty-four years old somewhat successful, attractive single woman, people often asked why you were single when you supposedly could get anyone you wanted.

She was ashamed to admit that she had had a few flings during university, gone on a couple of dates here and there, but nothing ever lasted longer than three months top. Some was too childish, too protective, in it for her looks and reputation, and some was entirely perfect — it wasn’t their faults sometimes, she just didn’t want feel like they were _the_ _one._ And because she already knew who the one was, every time, she couldn’t help but compare those guys she had dated to that person in her heart, and every time she would let herself down because they just wasn’t the same, no matter how much of a gentleman they were, how sincere their feelings. She felt bad for leading them on, but they just couldn’t _compete._

_The only one who could beat Aomine Daiki, was Aomine Daiki._

She still found herself perking up whenever she caught his name on TV, or one of those sports forums she followed on the internet. She’s glad he was doing well and flourishing on the road he had taken, was proud of how far he had come, wished she could find the courage to text him _I’m sorry_ and _I miss you_ whenever he’s online on facebook, even though they never talked after he left. What updates they had on each other’s life, they found out purely by coincidence from their parents, and after a while of not keeping in contact, it almost felt like they had wiped any trace of each other’s existence out respectively.

It had been six years.

Satsuki envied time for being able to pass by so quickly.

* * *

April. The streets of Tokyo were filled with cherry blossoms.

Satsuki woke up early that morning, so by lunchtime she had already finished half of her workload for the day and then some chores. It was a day off, so she thought she’d eat lunch — ready made curry over rice that she only had to heat up in the microwave — and then treated herself to a walk in the park, seeing how the dazzling sunlight was flooding into her room through the opened curtains. As she cleaned her utensils and washed the dishes, her mind drifted to the data collection she hadn’t finished.

After a small break, Satsuki got dressed to go out: she layered a simple white cardigan over a floral dress, stockings for decency and a pair of comfortable white mules. Chances were, she was most likely to run into the elder ladies next block rather than meeting someone important at the park, but since she was admiring such beautiful cherry blossoms, might as well look the part. With those thoughts, Satsuki decided to add a pair of pearl earrings to the fit, and looked at herself in the mirror.

She hadn’t changed much over the last few years: her hair was shorter, reaching her shoulders now and styled a bit differently, although the bangs remained the same; the baby fat on her face had melted away in place of well-defined, womanly features that she supposed weren’t bad on the eye, and while her height had barely improved because she had hit her growth spurt earlier than most, her curves had filled out where they needed to be and she was much more confident about them than she was in high school, always donning oversized shirts.

Satsuki grabbed her purse and went out.

It was a beautiful afternoon. The spring breeze swept through her hair and the smell of cherry blossoms in full bloom filled the air. The park had a decent amount of visitors but it wasn’t overwhelming, so she found an empty bench and sat there with her book until the sky had faded from blue to orange and purple, and children started leave with their parents.

Satsuki decided to take the longer way home and walked through the park, then made a choice to buy a slice of cheesecake from her favorite bakery for that evening’s dessert. She walked slowly through the narrow lanes of the neighborhood and reached a railroad crossing. There stood an enormous cherry blossom tree on the other side, covering the ground below it in petals, and she settled on watching them fall, slowly, slowly…

The crossing warning started to ring as the bar lowered. Then, a train rushed past her, cutting off her line of sight.

Satsuki waited.

When the train had passed, the cherry blossom tree was no longer the only one standing on the other side of the railroad. That person, as if noticing her gaze, turned his attention from the tree towards her, and froze.

He appeared to be even taller than she remembered — taller and broader, with these strong looking shoulders hugged by his jacket and the sweater underneath. His hair had grown out a little, the bangs reaching his eyes, but he was fit and toned and no longer the boy with the lanky arms and awkward limbs like he was in high school, no doubt the result of hard work all these years. He seemed to be equally as taken aback at the sight of her and she’s suddenly glad she decided to dress up a little more that day, wondered if he thought she looked as good as she did him, if she still reminded him of the girl that spring with the long hair and cherry blossoms weaving in them.

The time it took for the warning bars to lift was agonizingly slow.

But when it finally did, Satsuki found herself holding in her breath as he took the first move — and then another, and another, towards her until they were only a few steps apart, and now she’s craning her neck to look up at him the same way she used to in high school. He looked older, mature, all rough edges of his jaws and cheekbones but the lines of his eyebrows no longer were furrowed as she remembered. His posture was one that was lax and calm, almost nonchalant so, but the spark in his azure eyes remained as bright as ever, if only more tamed. He’s grinning wolfishly at her and she couldn’t help but notice to the light bit of stubbles he had, how they fitted him well.

“Yo, Satsuki.”

Daiki spoke up, hands in his pockets, and Satsuki felt her heart nearly leaping at the familiar sound of his voice.

“Long time no see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was brought to you by inspiration from: 5cm/s. and that concludes this story that dragged out wayyyy longer than i thought it would, haha. 
> 
> to those who have waited, thank you for your patience! 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed the read, please continue to support for more content in the future! <3


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